"Why on a Thestral?"
"That's really a surprise to you, Miss Granger?" He gave her almost that dismissive look over tightening the girdles. Their luggage was limited to the most necessary items, but essential they were. "Remember where we're heading. What do we get from abandoning the comfort of a Hogwarts train cabin and submitting ourselves to the indifferent darkness?"
"Wet robes and a cold?"
"I was told you had mastered the use of an Impervius charm."
"I have", she replied, flushing against her will. Why, why was it such an issue that she still stumbled over her muggle heritage with him? She hardly ever felt ashamed of it in conversations with their colleagues.
"Well, then you shouldn't get too wet in the rain, should you."
She fought down an unsettling mixture of emotions bubbling from her stomach. When her head was in charge of her tongue again, it felt safe to take the stirring wheel of the conversation again.
"So we're using Thestrals when heading to a Muggle hospital -", she began, "So we can identify a wandless wizard among others? Because wizards have been raised in line with death as a societal taboo, and probably react as a result to this conditioning … whereas Muggles won't react to something they can't see?"
"An application of very basic principles of human psychology", he commented over the graunching old leather. "But correct. Please continue."
"Er – what else could we learn from it?"
"Ahhh."
Oh, she had always hated that sound from him. The seamless replacement of a derogatory 'no points to Gryffindor' from her seventh year in Hogwarts, it stung through all robes and clothes and got under her very skin. His next sentence was as predictable as it was arrogant and taunting.
"Here's where we head to learning as not reciting theory from a book."
"Thought you'd never say it", she commented dryly.
"We're about to encounter individuals who, I think it's safe to assume, show a tendency to lie", he pointed out. "I am not judging them for their criminal record, whatever it may include, or their illness", he added in a correct interpretation from her aghast look. "This assessment is much less biased than you think. I am assuming this tendency, however, since if I were to live in a total institution, I'd jump at every opportunity to preserve a last bit of autonomy... which I could only hope to gain from concealment of my personal wishes, dreams and – urges of any kind."
"As much as I appreciate your recognition of a non-magical perspective -", she felt the redness vanish from her cheeks a little, "How do Thestrals make a difference here? There's veritaserum for forcing someone to tell the truth."
"Force is the correct term, Miss Granger", he mumbled, but the subdued tone indicated her to stay silent and wait for an elaboration: By now, he allowed himself to utter his opinion in such restrained manner, as he had not dared when she had been introduced as his colleague. She was a fellow to him, yet not an equal.
The silence stretched into a pause.
"Remind me why we can both see Thestrals", he inquired.
"Because we've seen death."
"An answer a first-year could have given."
The redness was back in her face, fiery and glowing in the night. "Thestrals can be seen only by wizards and witches who have witnessed the death of another human being in person at an age where they were conscious of the concept of mortality", she snapped back at him.
"A rephrasing of your former statement, using more sophisticated vocabulary, but in essence, the very same sentence as before." His voice was flat, unmoved from her obvious injury, very similar to the display of arrogance he used with his students. She hesitated.
"An answer of such superficial understanding as Mr Potter would have given it in fifth year -"
"Yeah, well, you've never bothered to actually teach him much, then, haven't you? As long as taunting does not qualify -"
Snape neatly threaded the last girdle into a specific rusty buckle before finally turning around. The scarce warm light from the castle's torches emphasized the tiny wrinkles around his eyes, which by were always there, and a deep frown between his slim dark brows, which usually was not.
"Miss Granger, since you still fall for such lame provocation, I'd better do the talking when we're there." He was not angry, but distinctly disappointed.
"To save you from further embarrassment", he went on, "Let me explain what just happened."
"What d'you mean, happened?"
" -This is important. We're about to encounter individuals who have a very deep and skilled understanding of the human psyche, and will find it ridiculously ease to manipulate you, I'm afraid."
"That certainly was not what I expected as preparing for this journey", she mumbled.
"You don't have to look at me, if that makes you uncomfortable to an extend that you can't really listen."
Accepting her defeat, she turned to check her beaded bag.
"I've just pushed you into an inferior position", he explained, "By asking questions, I take the lead. You fell for my simple trap, insulting you friend -"
Burying her head inside the bag suddenly seemed not too weird, but rather quite attractive.
" - But I though I saw the slightest trace of doubt in you regarding my usual armor of arrogance. Am I correct?"
"So this is where I confirm you assessment, handing you the conversation on a silver plate?"
He broke into a smile. It moved the wrinkles and purged the frown from his forehead. An honest expression. "Exactly."
"Are you going to answer my question any time soon? My Impervius Charm only lasts for so long, and I'd hate to recast it in the middle of a storm."
"Now that's more like it", he commented, visibly content. "Yes, Miss Granger, since you're so deliberate in taking the lead in our conversation, I shall tell you why we travel on a Thestral."
He pulled the grindle one last time to check its stability, then mounted the beast with ease. "In a total institution, every inmate has a record, and quite an extensive and invasive one, when it comes to personal matters. We're not looking for crimes they haven't been convicted for. A Horcrux is not interested in forming a bond with someone proud of their deeds, who feels sure about him or herself, deriving pleasure from reliving whatever they've done. Those are the features of a strong psyche, stable in most parts, and a Horcrux is not made to conquer such an entity. It's the fragment of a soul, and thrives upon vulnerability. Hidden feeling of guilt, meaninglessness, the scarcely concealed and intense shame. Even emptiness, if it can't anything more substantial."
"Pathogenic emotions, in the long run." She was done checking her bag, or pretending to do so. He offered her a hand, but her injured pride made her climb into the saddle on her own. "Impervius." The single flick of a wand encompassed them both. Physical proximity had never been an issue between them, so she shifted thoughtlessly behind him, until her legs rested safely in the latter iron stirrups and slim handholds were within reach.
"So a Thestral will not only help us identify the wizard among Muggles", he went on, "But in comparison with the records, we'll find out about his or her losses in life. Those that have never gone on record. Those hidden from all others -"
"Because the person feels ashamed, or guilty, or both, and has never mentioned to another soul -"
" - as long as it was intact. Quite in contrast to the nature of a Horcrux", he finished her sentence.
"Let's get going, then", she encouraged him, "Before I remember how much I hate horse riding."
